The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

insulting,” Jhorge-Rosse continued. “Are you aware that our fleet is assembled in the Great Bay ready to descend upon you if I do not report progress in these negotiations daily? ” The ambassador’s calloused hand rested near his hip, where a sword or dagger might be concealed beneath his robe.
    “You remind me of that daily, General Jhorge-Rosse. What precisely do you find so insulting in our proposal for a resumption of trade? We are making concessions in buying large quantities of beta’arack, a noxious alcoholic brew that we don’t need and your only export, in exchange for food which you cannot grow.” Quinnault leaned back in his chair, chin lifted, eyes cold and calculating.
    “You and your magicians want my people to starve. Your tariffs are absurd.” Jhorge-Rosse’s upper lip lifted in a snarl.
    Nimbulan edged closer to his king, fully aware of how dangerous a man Jhorge-Rosse could be.
    “You have fertile valleys rotting from the neglect of three generations of civil war while my people starve, and yet you demand added export tariffs before selling us the food you would otherwise throw away!” Jhorge-Rosse’s hand remained on the hilt of the concealed weapon.
    “Tariffs and taxes are a natural means of earning income for the crown so that I may pay my troops to defend my borders, or hire your mercenaries from Rossemeyer if necessary.” Quinnault narrowed his eyes. He made a point of placing both of his hands flat on the table. Jhorge-Rosse would earn no honor in murdering an unarmed man.
    Nimbulan’s magical armor snapped into place around his own body. He consciously extended it to wrap around his king, praying it wouldn’t dissolve at his first stray thought. Quinnault was the one man who could hold together a government, demanding and getting the cooperation of all twelve lords of Coronnan. If Jhorge-Rosse killed or seriously wounded King Quinnault, the chaos and civil war that had plagued Coronnan for three generations would erupt once more. The bachelor king had no child to inherit the Coraurlia and the Covenant with the dragons.
    The Covenant was broken. Shayla had proclaimed it. Because Myri was missing. He had to go after his wife, now.
    He wrenched his attention back to his king and the volatile ambassador.
    Jhorge-Rosse sniffed in Nimbulan’s direction. He wrinkled his nose as if the magician, or his magic, smelled bad. “You are a coward who hides behind magicians. I refuse to deal with a man who cannot defend himself. Prepare for invasion! We will have unrestricted access to your rich farmlands.” The ambassador stalked out of the room, robes flapping indignantly.
    “Be prepared for your ships to run aground in the mud, General Ambassador Jhorge-Rosse!” Quinnault said. He exhaled sharply as if he’d been holding his breath.
    Lord Hanic collapsed into the chair beside Quinnault. “Am I mistaken, or did that man just create an excuse to invade?”
    Quinnault nodded in silent agreement. “I’m surprised he waited so long. We’ve been trading insults for weeks. He could have invaded two days ago, as soon as the last storm settled.”
    “Now what?” Hanic raised troubled eyes to Nimbulan.
    “The tide turns as we speak.” Nimbulan sensed the subtle shift in the position of the moon in relation to the poles. “By sunset we will have a flood tide pushed by a storm still two days off the coast. The full moon will also raise the tide. The Rossemeyer fleet might very well negotiate the mudflats without mishap. That is why he chose today for his ultimatum.”
    “That is not an option, Master Magician.” Quinnault leveled his gaze on Nimbulan. “We have six hours to block that armada. Three half-built warships and a scattering of fishing vessels won’t stop them.”

Chapter 5
     
    M yri concentrated on Amaranth. Her mind blended with her flywacket familiar’s as he flew to freedom with her message to Nimbulan.
    She had only a few moments of privacy to send Amaranth on this desperate mission.
    Warn him of the danger. Stay and protect him! She urged the flywacket above the bowl of the volcanic crater that formed the city of Hanassa. Deep within the Southern Mountains, this haven for outlaws, rogue magicians, and mercenary soldiers was lost to casual searchers. Only Amaranth could fly over the protections and lead rescuers back to Myri and the children. After he warned Nimbulan of the plot against him. If only she wasn’t too late. She’d lost so much time and